May 26, 1896
Penelope Sumter
Penelope Sumter
I never have much cared for examinations. The very utterance of the word brings cold shivers down my spine and clamminess to my palms. Unfortunately, they are an unavoidable reality of attending college.
Another unavoidable reality is discipline. It never really lets up at school but times have been pretty bad since my father interceded. I had no idea he would be such a stick in the mud over the whole boys and girls at college thing. I can deal with his disapproval well enough but why did he have to involve Remington?
All right, all right, yes, I involved him first if you can call inventing him, involving him. How was I to know there would be a bastard at school with the name? I realize inventing lies to keep up appearances probably was not my smartest moment but what is a girl to do when beauty comes before brains?
Days like this I really envy Elizabeth and do not tell Edith but her as well. They have it so easy with no one really expecting them to be anything more than intellectuals. They can focus on their studies and ignore all the frivolous socializing that is expect of a woman like myself.
In order for me to study I have to sneak out of my room in the dead of night when my roommates are sound asleep. I have a few candles hidden in the bath room down the hall, where I lock the door and study well into the night and usually right through until dawn. Everyone always wonders how I manage to be the first one in the bath each day. If they only knew!
With Remington riding me (not literally, thank the heavens!) I have hardly had the time to spare even at night. His disciplinary routine has left me exhausted daily. I will get him back but I fear it will have to wait until next term. Now, I am expected to perform reasonably well on final examinations this week and have hardly had an hour to spend studying. No wonder I am more nervous than I normally am.
The notion of suggesting I should do well in school seems at the very least contradictory to my father’s attitude about me being here. No doubt he would not agree with my assessment, and fortunately I am smart enough to avoid making it known to him. I wonder however if my teachers will be sympathetic if I should fail to attain better than average results?
Dr. Phallic seems inclined to be sympathetic to me but I have no illusions about his motivation. He clearly has improper desires for me (not that I am complaining). Mr. Bard on the other hand expects nothing but top tier results from me and I doubt he even knows what color my eyes and hair are, it is entirely possible if not probably he does not even realize I am a woman. Ms. Maple seems to think perfection is attainable and I in particular have a duty to achieve it. Mr. Green, well what can I say about a dirty old man? (Yes, I could say lots really but most of it would likely make the pages of my journal blush!)
Remington (sick bastard) seems to take pleasure in causing me the greatest amount of humiliation possible and simultaneously ensuring my ability to meet academic expectations is compromised. I wonder if he planned it that way or just stumbled on it without a thought?
I will go with the latter until proven otherwise. Remington (demented pervert) seems incapable of detailed planning or forethought. This should make it rather easy to cause him a great deal of distress in the future. I am patient enough to wait for the timing to be optimal. I wonder if I can manage to have him expelled like Jenny was? I have the whole summer to consider it.
My father has instructed I be sent home on the evening train, Friday. I am overjoyed to be leaving so soon. I feared he might make me wait as much as week before leaving as he must be extremely angry with me. I wonder if my brothers will be home when I arrive. It has been too long since I have seen them and I will need their assistance to keep father at bay.
“It is time, Penelope.” Remington said.
I jumped a little on the stool in the hall of Carrington Manor. I had been so lost in thought I had not even heard him come in.
“Yes, I believe it is.” I replied.
I climbed down from the stool and set the dunce cap atop it. Remington (walking excrement) held his arm out to me like a gentleman. I will not be fooled to think him one again. I took his arm though and smiled my politest smile. I wonder if he knows just how fake the smile is? Probably not or he would no doubt slap it away.
The walk to school was pleasant enough. I have become accustomed to the whispers and gawking stares. It is not like I have exited the house in this manor of my accord. If anyone should be ashamed it is Remington (rotted anal fungi) but he is too much a fool to realize it.
Mr. Bard seemed to be oblivious to my less than formal attire or are birthday suits formal? They are suits after all. It felt odd to be seated in a normal desk and not sitting on a stool for a change. Remington (diseased maggot breath) took his now customary place, standing at the back of the room.
Mr. Bard was surprisingly quiet as he passed out the examination booklets. The girls were relatively quiet as well for a change. Lucy managed to get her hands slapped for whispering but it was relatively mild considering. I suppose Mr. Bard felt a more severe punishment would have a negative effect on her exam results. Too bad Remington (bird pellet brain) is not as perceptive.
I focused on the questions before me. Despite a total lack of studying, I found myself knowing several of the answers. Perhaps I will do better than I expect of myself. It rarely happens but it would be a nice surprise in a few weeks when the grades arrive home.
I finished the test with time to spare and even had sufficient time left to check back over and verify I knew what I thought I knew and did not know what I thought I did not know. I rose from seat and delivered the booklet to his desk. He gave me a curt nod, still clearly oblivious to my state of dress. I would have felt offended if I had not been so embarrassed.
Remington (urinary infection) escorted me back to Carrington Manor with hardly a word between us. Not that I have anything of importance to say to him. Well, okay maybe I do but if I say that it will not end well for me!
At the Carrington’s I returned to my stool and cap. I suppose matters could be worse. I am not certain how but I will stipulate they can be so as to hopefully avoid the unforeseeable extra humiliation and pain. Mr. Carrington is at least kind enough to sneak me some food after dinner or I would surely have starved to death under Remington‘s (toe jam) regime.
I am counting the hours until the train leaves at midnight on Friday.
2 comments:
Penelope, your invective is at least imaginative.
I hope that you can totally demolish Remington, in the not too distant future.
Warm hugs,
Paul.
lol "rotted anal fungi" I wish I would have thought of that on more than one occasion.
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